Do Pokemorphs Dream of Electric Mareep?
by Vincent Van
Summary: Wilson is your average 14 year old Detective dealing with an existential crisis in the Post War era of Pokémon where most natural Pokémon don't exist. His job is to discover... (spoilers). Dark AU/homage to Philip K. Dick's novel and movie (Blade Runner). Rating subject to change. I don't own Pokémon or Blade Runner (or Philip K. Dick). OC centric.


**A/N: Thanks for taking a slight interest in my new story. So I started a story called Pokémon Runner a while back, but I wanted something a bit more faithful to the original story of ****Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? ****so I present to you the world of Pokémon right after the Great War. Enjoy and take care.**

**First person story is all from Wilson's perspective, his thoughts are in ****_italics._**

Ch. 1 Do Pokemorphs Dream of Electric Mareep?

After the great Pokémon war, nearly all of the natural Pokémon were wiped out and all the people that were still alive left the Kanto area in search of a better life, everyone except the undesirables and a few of the super rich looking for a place to conduct their unsavory practices.

To fill the void of Pokémon, genetically engineered Pokémon, called Pokemorphs were created to be humanity's new slaves. Nevertheless, these Pokemorphs proved to be too strong and smart for humans and were quickly made illegal.

Pokémon Runners were hired to hunt down rogue Pokemorphs and kill them, however this was not called killing, it was termed fainting.

* * *

><p>"Eh, I'll take the ramen." I ordered at the small streetside restaurant.<p>

The chef acknowledged. "One ramen coming up."

After I got my soup, I noticed two bodies behind me.

"Sable" the human's sableye spoke for him.

I gave my attention to the chef. "What'd it say?" I asked.

"It say, you need to come to the police station." The chef answered.

_What could they possibly want with me this time._ I thought to myself. "You got the wrong guy." I told them.

"Sableye, Sable, Bleye." It said.

The chef once again translated. "It say, no mistaking you, you Pokemon Runner."

I was then led to the squad car and politely, albeit silently escorted to the nearest police station. _This is not going to be fun._ I figured.

When I got there, I was sat down at the local Chief's desk.

A man who was all too familiar hobbled with his cane into the Chief's chair.

"Wilson I'm impressed. How did you end up in Newbark of all places?" Deckard, a man who was not the chief asked in a gravelly voice, indicative of his age and experience.

_You really mean, how did I evade you for so long._ I thought. I decided to lead with something else. "Why am I here Deckard?"

Deckard responded. "I need someone to take care of a particular problem I find myself in, a task best suited for a Pokémon Runner. You're the best I've got in that department."

"I'm out of the business, ever since…" I tried to remind that man.

Deckard got his wry smile on his face. "Now come on, boy. Do I really have to threaten you with what I can do if you don't agree?"

I then understood. _He wasn't asking, he was telling._ I broke eye contact, which he got the message.

"Good. Now about what I need you to do." He started. "Pokemon Runners have found out that the newest models of Pokemorphs escaped Silph Co. They were some particularly well made Human variants."

_This deal is getting worse all the time._ I thought as he explained further.

"They were designed for specific jobs each, some for labor, and others for fighting." He mentioned. "Last week, one applied for a job at Silph Co."

"Why me, where do I fit into all of this." I asked.

Deckard cut to the chase. "We believe that six of the clones are out there somewhere, we need you to find them."

"Just get Jones to do it; he's an excellent Pokémon Runner." I tried to persuade him.

Deckard's face soured ever so slightly. "Jones was the one who found the first Pokemorph. Now machines are breathing for him, and he might not make it. I need you."

* * *

><p>"Go ahead and sit down Leonard. This should only take a few minutes." The man said as he gestured for the brute known as Leonard to sit in the chair across from him.<p>

Leonard obliged.

The man fiddled with some machines before he started. "Alright Leonard, pretend you are in a desert and you see a Torkoal stuck on its back."

"What's a Torkoal?" Leonard asked.

The man responded. "It's like a Squirtle."

Leonard was silent for a moment. "What is this for again?"

"It's a test of emotions to find out if you're human or not." The man answered. "You have to be a human to work at the Silph Corporation." The man who was administering the test continued. "Anyway, what do you do? It's just lying there, helplessly, waving its limbs around, and you're the only one there for miles to help it."

Leonard was growing more and more angered as the Torkoal was described. Until, he opened his mouth and a light began to glow within it. The ensuing ice blast shot the administrator into the wall. "That's what I do." He stated with blatant hatred before he walked out of the frame.

I shut off the video recording_. What did I get myself into? _I thought, probably a little too late.


End file.
